Breath of Life
by EmbraceTheEccentric
Summary: In a world full of demonic souls, weapon meisters and human weapons work together to protect humanity in the fight against the spread of madness. Inspired by the anime "Soul Eater"
1. Chapter 1

**Plot inspired by the anime "Soul Eater"**  
**Crossover inspired by _bluesilktie_ on tumblr and her wonderful art which can be found here by adding her url: post/70140172709/soul-eater-au-for-those-of-you-who-are**

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The woman's heels clicked against cold stone as she walked down the empty street. The smiling moon was high in the sky and the air was thick with humidity. All was silent save for the echoing click from her shoes and a bell chiming in the distance. Nothing else could be heard. Not even the black-eyed demon as it stepped out from the shadows before her and slashed her chest open with a blade.

The woman fell to the ground, a choked off scream dying in her throat. As blood pooled around her body, the demon crouched over her and watched a small, vaporous blue light travel upwards from the open cavity of her chest. The fingers of the demon's possessed vessel reached out and pulled at the soul, guiding it towards his open mouth. As he swallowed the woman's spirit his eyes glowed bright blue for a brief moment before dimming back to black. He looked down at his victim and nudged the body with his foot, a sadistic smile creeping onto his face.

A scream rang out in the street. The demon's head snapped up in time to see another woman sprinting around the corner, away from gruesome scene she had just witnessed. The demon's smile grew.

"_Hungry_." He hissed as he took off after the woman. He chased her until she tripped and fell, falling hard to the ground near a set of stone steps. He caught up and sent a swift kick to her ribs as she tried to stand. She fell back to the ground with a cry. He towered over her with a raised blade, intent on taking another soul.

A short snicker echoed through the street.

The demon froze, blade still in the air, and looked up at the steps. There he saw two boys, one sitting on the steps and the other standing, their faces barely visible beneath the dim light of the street lamp above them. The woman let out a small whimper and scurried away while the demon distracted.

"That man, Cas. His soul…" The boy who was sitting said. He was lounging on the stone steps, nonchalant, adorned in jeans and a t-shirt. The one who was standing, hands folded behind his back in a position of maturity, was dressed in a slightly more formal manner in a tie and white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. "Yes Dean, there's no doubt about it. He's been possessed by a demon. He isn't human anymore."

"Alright then." The one on the steps, Dean, stood and cracked his knuckles. "Let's kill this son of a bitch fast. I wanna get home in time for dinner." The demon gave a snort of disbelief.

"That's a lot of talk for a couple of kids." He remarked, twirling the blade in his hand, making sure they could see he was armed. The boys seemed to ignore it. That or they simply didn't care.

"Just so we're clear Dean." Castiel said as he walked over to stand next to him. "This man has killed countless people for their souls. We've done the same." His shoulder twitched as a great, curved scythe blade shot up from out of his back. It glinted in the moonlight, onyx and sapphire metal gleaming. The demon's smile fell. "But I suppose it's a bit different for us." The rest of Castiel's body shifted into a full scythe, complete with a long ebony staff.

"Damn right." Dean agreed as he caught the seven foot scythe and twirled it expertly in his hands. "Hey, ugly!" Dean called, addressing the demon. "Your murdering days are done. Your soul is mine, you bastard!" The demon growled and sprinted up the steps. Meeting Dean half way up, he swung his blade towards his face.

"Weapon and meister, two fighting as one." Dean said as he dodged the swing, fighting back with his own move. "Let's go Cas." The blade cut through the air, only managing to slice open the demon's shirt as he narrowly missed the blow.

The demon came back again swinging his blade back and forth. While human beings are remarkably slow even at the best of times, possessed ones have incredible speed, agility, and strength. Dean deflected each shot with the handle of the scythe. The demon kicked at Dean's knees, forcing him back to avoid being tripped. While Dean was stumbling back the demon made another attempt to strike down the meister. Dean parried the attack and swung his scythe.

Swipe, dodge, hit; each move was immediately followed by another, with no break in the rhythm. The fight carried on until Dean and the demon were each at the edge of the stone steps. Dean raised his leg as the demon lunged for him and kicked at his chest. The demon fell back and lost his balance as his foot caught the edge of the top step. He grasped in vain at open air as he fell. Dean drew his scythe back, ready to swing.

"It's ours now!" Dean shouted as he swung the scythe directly into the demon's abdomen. "The ninety ninth soul!" The scythe sliced through the demon, splitting him in half. He erupted in a dark explosion that made Dean wince and shield his eyes. When he looked back, the only thing left of the demon was the floating wisp of his soul. The soul was similar to that of the woman's except it was twisted and black, like dark smoke. It drifted and hovered in the air a few feet above the ground.

Dean tossed his weapon into the air. As it fell back to the ground, the scythe shifted back into its human form and made a clean landing.

Castiel walked over to the coiling soul and, just as the demon had done, coaxed it into his mouth, swallowing its darkness. His eyes glowed for a moment before returning to their normal, deep blue color. Castiel clapped his hands together and gave a smile.

"Dean, thank you for a good meal." Dean smiled and walked up behind him.

"We're almost there, aren't we?" He said. "Took us long enough but that was number ninety-nine. We've finally collected all the souls we need." Castiel nodded and turned around to face his meister.

"There's only one thing left now. I've just got to eat the soul of a Knight of Hell. Then I'll be a true Death Scythe, worthy of being wielded by God himself." He turned back around and started walking back up the steps. "It's incredible." Dean ran up the steps, following his weapon.

"Yeah, well don't forget who helped get you here." Dean reminded his partner, nudging him with his elbow. Castiel turned and smiled at him. Dean almost had to take a step back as Castiel crowded into his personal space like he normally did when they talked.

"Of course, Dean. I could never thank you enough." Dean smirked but couldn't fight the blush rushing to his cheeks from the intense stare his weapon was giving him. He turned away quickly, thankful there was no one else around.

"Anyway, we should report back to the headmaster and let him know." Dean jogged up to the nearest shop window. It was a pie shop and for a moment he was distracted by the pastries inside. Castiel gave him a nudge. Dean looked up.

"What? I'm hungry." He defended as he blew on the glass, creating a sheet of condensation. "Just draw the call sigil." He murmured to himself as he began tracing symbols into the condensation. Sigils and portals were the most common form of communication at the academy. It was also essentially the only way anyone can get a hold of the headmaster. He finished writing and stepped back as the window began to glow. Soon they were looking into the headmaster's office at the academy. The desk he normally sat at was empty.

"Hey, Headmaster Shurley. You in there?" He called into the window. "Meister Dean reporting."

"Yes, yes." A voice called back to them. The face of a scruffy, middle-aged man appeared in the window. "Hey there, Dean. How did it go?" Headmaster Chuck Shurley's weary face was animated and his tired eyes lit up at the sight of Dean, one of his best students. He sat down at his desk.

"I've just collected the ninety ninth demon soul, sir." Dean responded. "Now we just have one Knight soul left to collect and we'll be done."

"Well done Dean." Chuck congratulated, a proud smile on his face. "You're proving to be just as excellent a meister as your mother was." Dean gave an appreciative but sad smile. He didn't like it when people mentioned his mother. She died when he was young, killed by a demon after his father failed to protect her as her weapon. After that his dad went insane trying to track down the demon who killed her, but without a meister to wield him he was useless. He ended up getting killed for his stupidity, leaving Dean and his younger brother Sam to fend for themselves until they were adopted by their good friend Bobby Singer.

"Hey, idjit!" Speak of the devil. Dean's thoughts were interrupted as a voice called out from outside the viewing range of the window. Cas's head shot up from where he was staring at the ground, not having been involved in the current conversation. Chuck moved out of the way as Bobby Singer crowded into the window. Of course he would be there. He was Chuck's current weapon, a large double barrel shotgun. Bobby stared down Castiel.

"If you let a demon lay a hand on my boy I will blast you so full of buckshot-"

"Bobby!" Dean shouted, cutting him off. "If I slip up it sure as hell won't be Cas's fault. Lay off a bit, will ya? You do this every freaking time." It was true. No matter how much Castiel had proved himself, Bobby was always quick to make sure he was taking care of Dean. He did the same for Sam and his meister, Jess.

"I swore I would protect Dean, Bobby. I don't intend to go back on my vow any time soon." Castiel assured him.

"Enough of that!" Chuck cut in. "Bobby, I don't know if you heard but Dean and Castiel just collected their ninety-ninth demon soul."

"Congrats. Now don't screw it up." Bobby said. The man actually was quite proud, and Dean knew that, he just had his own way of expressing emotion.

"What do you mean don't screw it up?" Dean asked. Chuck shifted uncomfortably behind his desk.

"As you know if a meister and weapon pair collects ninety-nine demon souls, souls of those who have been possessed by demonic forces from Hell, and additionally collect the soul of one Knight of Hell then the weapon will obtain the qualifications necessary to become a death scythe, meaning you're eligible to be one of God's personal weapons." Dean saw the corners of Castiel's mouth quirk into a small smile. It was his dream to be a personal weapon to God, one that he would use if a major war were to arise. Until that day he remained hidden, never intervening in trivial matters.

"Right, we know all that." Dean said. Castiel nodded in agreement.

"Well it's that last soul that's a bit tricky. You've made it this far but you should know there are countless meisters who have lost their lives when they challenged a Knight of Hell. You'll need to be very careful Dean, but if you're lucky then maybe the death scythe you create will be as powerful as the scythe that your mother created."

Dean gave a small nod but in the back of his mind he knew Cas would be stronger than his father ever was. Hell, he may even be stronger already.

"But as Bobby said, please do be sure not to make any mistakes." Chuck continued. "This last collection is very important. If you slip up then all of the ninety-nine evil souls that you've collected so far will be confiscated lost." Dean blinked.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" He asked incredulously. "Did you just say we'd lose all of those souls? Every last black-eyed son of a bitch we've killed, down the drain?"

"I'm sorry but those are the rules." Chuck said with a shrug.

"So don't screw up." Bobby reminded them.

"We'll make a clean job of it, no worries." Castiel assured them. Dean was still staring at the headmaster in shocked silence.

"Alright. I'll see you two later then." The image disappeared as Chuck signed off. Dean stood there and stared at the shop window, unmoving.

"Dean?" Castiel reached out a hand to his meister. But before he even got close to him, Dean turned sharply and took off down the street. Castiel ran after him.

"Ninety-nine damn souls," Dean called out to the empty street. He didn't turn around. He knew his weapon would be following him. "Years of hard work and it can be destroyed because of one freaking slip up?"

"Dean-" Castiel began. He nearly ran into the fuming meister as he stopped abruptly in the middle of the street and turned to face him. Dean's eyes were bright, anger and frustration seemed to radiate off of him. Their faces were inches apart but neither seemed to notice.

"Why did no one think to tell me this?" Dean asked. Castiel gave a non-committal shrug.

"I thought you knew. Most people do. It never came up before because we've never been this close." Dean's eyes closed and a deep, exasperated sigh escaped his lips. Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's going to be fine. Like I said, we'll make a clean job of it." He said with a smile. Dean's eyes opened and widened upon noticing how close he was to Castiel. He took a step back and Castiel's hand fell back to his side, his smile falling slightly with it.

"Alright," Dean said, a small blush creeping on to his cheeks again. "Let's find this Knight of Hell and end it then. It's about time you became the greatest death scythe the world's ever gonna know." He said this with a smirk, his cocky bravado shining through. He stuck out a hand. "You ready, Cas?" Castiel looked down at the outstretched hand and grasped it, giving Dean a wide smile.

"Ready, Dean."

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** I'll attempt to post a new chapter every one or two weeks but that schedule may be inconsistent due to hectic schedules. I'll try my best though.**


	2. Chapter 2

_4 years ago, first year at the Academy_

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"_Dean_." Jo's harsh whisper sounded deafening in the nearly silent lecture hall. She looked up to check that the teacher hadn't heard and was thankful to see he was still writing notes on the large black board at the front of the room and droning on about soul resonance. She turned back towards her friend next to her, the one sleeping in the middle of class.

"_Dean_." She whispered again, trying to wake him. Jo poked him with the tip of her pencil a few times but Dean remained soundly unconscious. She let out an exasperated huff and glanced once more at the teacher. Sooner or later he would turn around and notice Dean sleeping. Dean couldn't afford to piss off more of his teachers when it was only his first year at the academy.

Jo turned in her seat and faced forward. With an impassive expression on her face she slowly brought her leg up and silently brought it back down hard and fast on top of Dean's foot next to her.

Dean shot up in his chair, nearly falling out of it, and a small yelp escaped his lips. Every head in the room turned to look at him, including the teacher's.

"Is there a problem, Mr.…?" The teacher trailed off. Dean's looked around at all the eyes trained at him and swallowed back the lump in his throat.

"Winchester." Dean answered as his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Jo stifled a laugh beside him, her hand going up to cover her grin. "And no, sir. Everything's fine." The teacher studied him for a few moments longer before turn back to the board and continuing the lesson. The attention of the students lingered on him but eventually they all turned back to the lesson and their notes as well. Dean let out a breath and glared at Jo quietly giggling beside him.

"Was that really necessary?" He demanded. Jo merely shrugged and tilted her small, blonde head to the side.

"It had to be done. It was either that or the teacher caught you sleeping in class which I don't think he would have appreciated all that much." Dean sighed. She was right of course. Though he could have done without the dull throbbing in his foot. Jo was small but when it came to strength she packed a punch.

Dean forced himself to pay attention to the remainder of the lecture, which albeit wasn't all that long, but felt himself slipping away at various times. Finally a bell chimed in the lecture hall signaling the end of class. Dean stood and stretched before collecting his materials and heading out of the classroom with Jo. As they walked down the wall, Jo nudged Dean with her elbow to get his attention. He looked down at her, his eyebrow quirked up in question.

"What?" He asked.

"I can understand you falling asleep in most of your other classes. I mean, some of them are boring as hell." She started. Dean snorted and nodded in agreement.

"But," She continued. "I could've sworn you'd enjoy your soul resonance class. You're always going on and on about crap like that. You think it's cool."

"First of all, soul resonance is not _crap_." Dean defended. "Everyone should find it interesting. It's what connects a meister and weapon and allows them to fight as one."

"So why'd you fall asleep in class?" Jo asked. Dean's face fell.

"Jo, you know why. I haven't found a weapon yet."

Jo gave a sympathetic smile. "Not everyone's found their weapon yet, Dean, or a meister. You're not alone."

"You have." Dean pointed out. Jo found her weapon, Ash, over a year ago. Ash had been working at her mom's bar in the town. One day a fight broke out, two drunken meisters arguing over who had the better weapon. Ash shifted into his weapon form, a set of knives and blades which replenished as they were used, and he and Jo managed to break apart the brawlers. The way they had fought together felt so right, so balanced. They knew then and there they could work as a pair.

"What's the point of coming to an academy for weapons and meisters if I haven't even found a partner?" Dean questioned. Jo stopped walking and directed the two of them to an alcove, away from the flow of kids in the hall.

"You're here, Dean Winchester, because your mother was a highly skilled meister who was paired with one of the best weapons out there. You're their son, and you'll be a damn good meister no matter if you find your weapon this second or the last minute of your final year."

Dean sighed but Jo gave a small smile of thanks and clapped her on the shoulder. But before either of them could say anything further, shouting erupted down the hall. Students started running, all in the direction of the courtyard. Dean reached out and grabbed the arm of a passing student, forcing him to stop.

"Whoa there. Where's the fire, man?"

"Something's going down in the courtyard. A bunch of meisters are fighting over a weapon." The student explained in a rush. He ran off with the other students. Dean and Jo shared a look before following as well.

The courtyard of the school was a wide open space and often times weapon and meister pairs could be found sparring there during open periods, a convenient source of entertainment for the other students. Today Jo and Dean saw a large crowd gathered around an unseen source. Dean pushed through to the front, Jo following in the path he left behind him. When they got to the front they were met with an unusual sight.

Meisters lay strewn in various states of injury across the ground. Some were unconscious, some groaning whilst in the fetal position, other's cradling their hands which seemed to be scorched by fire. They were all surrounding a large gleaming scythe, its blade stuck in the ground and handle in the air. There was one student still standing, circling the blade, whom Dean recognized from his physics class. Some conceited upperclassman named Uriel.

"What the hell happened?" Dean muttered under his breath as he and Jo stared in horror. A dark-haired girl next to him overheard and answered.

"See that scythe? It's a new student. Everyone's been trying to use him as a weapon, to see if their soul's compatible with his." In that moment, Uriel grabbed the handle of the scythe and tried to pull it out of the cobblestone. He wasn't able to do much before a large bolt of energy exploded from the scythe and sent him flying backwards, smoke trailing in his wake. He made a painful landing on his back and Dean could see his hands had been scorched.

Now Dean understood the numerous injured students. When a meister's soul wavelength isn't compatible with a weapon's and they try to use it, their body rejects it like a bad organ. Sometimes the rejection shows itself in the inability to pick the weapon up and use it but often times the rejection is a little more forceful. The meister can be blasted back, burned, or electrocuted.

Uriel sat up and made a move to stand, apparently still determined. He didn't make it more than a couple of feet from the scythe before another bolt of electricity shot out and zapped him. Uriel reeled back with a yell. When he turned back towards the weapon, his expression was furious. From what Dean had seen of the kid, he seemed violent and had a nasty temper even at the best of times.

"Well it has to be your fault. Something must be wrong with you." Uriel snapped. Dean watched as the scythe shifted back into its human form but remained crouched on the ground. His black hair matched the ebony steel of his blade and even from afar Dean could just barely make out piercing blue eyes. They quickly looked towards the ground, avoiding having to stare at the fuming student towering above him.

"Hey, I know that guy." Jo acknowledged beside him. "That's one of the Novak kids."

_Novak_. That name sounded familiar to Dean. "The Novaks? Aren't those the kids that get dropped off at the academy once they're old enough while their parents go traveling?"

"Yeah." Jo confirmed. "Supposedly the parents are too busy to stick around. Another son, Gabriel is a year above us. And then there's Michael Novak who graduated last year." Jo paused. "I think there may be another son but I can't remember." Dean turned back towards the weapon on the ground.

"Why's he such the hot commodity?" He asked. The boy seemed thin from afar, scrawny even. Dean doubted he'd do well in hand to hand combat. He'd never need to fight like that, being a weapon and all, but a strong body usually meant a strong weapon form.

"He's an angel blade." Jo said, awe clear in her voice. Dean's eyes widened.

"An angel blade?" He repeated. "Just to be clear, we're talking about one of the rarest and most powerful weapons know to man, right? The one known as practically a myth?" Jo nodded, a wide grin on her face. Dean looked back over at the boy. "What the hell is he doing _here_?"

Angel blades get their namesake from their legendary history. Supposedly, a weapon is chosen by God himself and bestowed with heavenly power. Angle blades are rare indeed and only pop up every few centuries. The fact that one had been found, and was attending the academy, was extraordinary.

Uriel was still shouting curses at weapon who was just sitting there. Uriel grew closer with every insult, crowding into the boy's space. Dean took a step forward, but he didn't know why. Did he want to help the boy up? Or did he want to punch Uriel's face in? Either one seemed like a good option at the time. But Jo grabbed his arm and held him back. He looked back at her, his face questioning.

"Don't get involved, Dean." She advised, her eyes pleading. "Nothing good will come out of it and it's only the first day." He narrowed his eyes and jerked his arm away but remained by her side. He watched helplessly as Uriel continued to shout at the weapon. Why wasn't he fighting back? Anyone who could change into a weapon as impressive as that surely didn't have to take any of the crap he was being dealt. Dean looked back at Jo.

"Come on. We've gotta do something." The crowd around them had grown larger, full of curious meisters and weapons wanting to see what the commotion was about.

"Maybe you're just defective." Uriel spat out. The weapon flinched at those words. "You may be an angel blade but I bet you couldn't even take a hit in battle." Uriel paused, a cruel smile creeping onto his face. "I bet you probably couldn't even take a hit _now_." He taunted as he drew back his foot, prepared to send a brutal kick into the weapon's rib cage. Dean had had enough.

"Hey, Uriel!" He shouted as he stepped out from the throng of students. Uriel stopped and turned to look at him, as did the weapon and every other student in the crowd. Everyone fell silent.

"_Dean_." Jo pleaded in a harsh whisper. He ignored her.

"Why don't you leave the kid alone." Uriel's foot came back down and he took a step towards Dean. The crowd seemed to all take a step back but Dean stood his ground and matched Uriel's steely glare.

"What did you just say?" Uriel challenged. Dean glanced over at the weapon who was staring back with wide, questioning blue eyes. Dean looked back at Uriel.

"I said," Dean took a step forward. "leave...him…alone." Each word was met with another step forward. He was standing about a foot away from Uriel now. He took one last step which placed him between the fuming meister and the weapon.

"Who do you think you are?" Uriel challenged. Dean met his murderous gaze with an equally intense stare and gave a small, taunting smile.

"I'm Dean Winchester, son of Mary and John Winchester, one of the greatest weapon meister pairs of the past five centuries. And if you don't stop messing with this weapon…" Dean gave a small chuckle. "Well, you're gonna walk away with more than just a few burns." The crowd had begun murmuring at the mention of Dean's parents. He caught whispers of _"That's Dean Winchester?"_ and _"Mary and John's son?"_ but he tuned them out, instead focusing on Uriel's expression which was growing steadily more wary.

"You think because you've got tough parents then you can tell me what to do?" Uriel challenged, a tinge of apprehension in his voice. Dean took a step forward which made Uriel take a stumbling step back.

"I think that no matter who my parents are, you're not gonna come out of this in the best condition. So _back off_." He growled. The crowd had fallen silent again. A moment of stillness passed and no one moved.

"Fine." Uriel ground out finally. "You get the broken weapon. Have fun dealing with him." He stepped back and turned on his heel. The crowd parted for him as he walked away. Dean didn't take his eyes off of him until he was out of sight. As soon as Uriel left the crowd began to disperse, some returning to class and others lingering in the courtyard. Dean let out a breath.

"You okay?" He asked as he turned around. The weapon was still crouched on the ground but he slowly stood. He was only an inch or two shorter than Dean.

"Yes." He said in a small but deep voice. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Dean looked the weapon up and down. "You're a Novak, right?" The weapon nodded.

"Castiel Novak." He supplied.

"Dean Winchester." He stuck out his hand which Castiel shook. "But I guess you already know that." Castiel gave a small smile before a thoughtful look grew on his face.

"Dean?" He asked. "Would you mind trying something for me?"Dean frowned.

"Sure, I guess. What do you want me to-" Dean was unable to finish his sentence as Castiel shifted back into his weapon form. The scythe spun in the air before coming back down. Acting on instinct, Dean caught it before it fell to the ground and twirled it in his hands. Gasps of shock erupted throughout the courtyard from lingering students as everyone stared at Dean and Castiel. There was no jolt of electricity, no pulse of energy sending him back. Dean held the scythe effortlessly in his hands.

It felt right.

"Holy shit." Dean looked over with wide eyes at Jo who had a large grin on her face. Other students had begun to crowd around as well.

"Uh…" Dean looked back at the scythe in his hands. "What does this mean?"

"_It means,_" A rough voice came from the blade of the scythe. It shot out of Dean's hands and into the air where it shifted. Castiel made a clean landing on the cobblestone and rose to meet Dean's gaze, crowding fairly close. "Our souls are compatible." He grinned. "It seems I've found my meister." Dean started at him.

"Wha…_what_?" He stuttered. This was happening too fast for his brain to process. Castiel's smile fell.

"That is, if you'll have me as your weapon of course." He said, his voice growing softer and more hesitant.

Dean stared dumfounded for a moment as the crowd listened around them, waiting for an answer. His soul was compatible? With an _angel blade_?

He noticed Castiel's eyes had fallen.

"You want me to be you meister?" Dean asked. Castiel looked back up.

"Of course. It only makes sense that we're compatible. A meister as powerful as you can balance me." The small smile reappeared on his face. "We'd be quite the impressive pair." Dean let out a breath. This was happening so fast, his brain could hardly keep up. But there were a few things he was certain he understood. It had felt _right_ when Dean had held Castiel as a scythe. He wanted him as his meister and Dean wanted him as his weapon. He gave small nod of his head.

"Yes." He breathed. Castiel's eyes and grin widened.

"Yes?" He asked. Dean nodded.

"Hell yes. But," Dean held up a hand. "I've got two conditions." Castiel looked confused for a moment but his smile remained. He gave a nod of understanding. "First, I'm gonna make you into death scythe. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. If I'm gonna have a weapon as powerful as you, I've got to prove I deserve you." Castiel's eyes widened and he looked somewhat shocked.

"Dean, you don't have to prove yourself." He chuckled. "But if you insist, I would be honored if you helped me become a death scythe. And your second condition is…" He trailed off. Dean snorted.

"That I can call you Cas. Your name is too damn complicated dude." Castiel laughed, his smile growing impossibly wider. Dean quite enjoyed seeing him smile.

"Deal." Castiel agreed.

"Alright then, Cas." Dean clapped a hand on the shoulder of his weapon. "We better get started then."


End file.
